The Controversial Case of the Courtship-Challenged Changelings
by RavenIdiot
Summary: What if Jess & Rory were mixed up at birth & accidentally given to the wrong mothers. And what if, 16 years later, they discovered the truth? How will Lorelai & Luke deal with the ensuing merger of the Danes & Gilmore clans, and the arising conflict over the teens? And how will Jess & Rory deal with their secret attraction to each other now that they're adoptive-siblings?
1. Chapter 1: Shadow of a Doubt

Disclaimer: If I owned Gilmore Girls why would I be writing _fan_fiction of it? Be logical.

A.N.: I'm setting everyone's ages back one year to give the teens more time in school. So Rory and Jess are 16 rather than 17.

Takes Place: Friday, 19th April, 2002, three days after Uncle Louie's funeral (episode: Dead Uncles and Vegetables).

* * *

Chapter 1: Shadow of a Doubt

In Which Jess is Forced to Wear an Orange Jumpsuit and Right Some DHHS Infractions

* * *

It wasn't like he was planning on _keeping_ the 500 baseballs! What the heck would he even _do _with them? Forge 'Babe Ruth' signatures and sell them on Ebay? It was just meant to be a harmless disappearing act- he would have returned them after he got bored of watching Dean's team struggling with the tennis balls.

Dean had probably been waiting his whole life to make that citizen's arrest. Which was all well and good, but dragging him out of the cafeteria in front of everyone and down to the police station had been a _bit_ overkill, even in Jess' book. _But hey, all's fair in love and war, right? _

What Jess _really_ wanted to know was how the bag-boy had managed to link him to the case of the disappearing baseballs to begin with. Cause Jess had been nothing if not meticulous in covering his tracks, and yet Dean had somehow convinced everyone that he was the _only_ kid on campus who could have _possibly _had both the motive and means to pull it off.

_Like I'm the __only_ _student in Stars Hollow High who knows how to pick a lock! _Actually, now that he thought about it, that might not really be so far off. Almost half a year since his mother had banished him to this hick-hell and he _still _wasn't used to Stars Hollow's provincial ways.

80 hours of community service, or '_Service Learning'_ as the ever politically-correct school system was calling it; all for one stupid prank. It hardly seemed fair. But then, anyone who _expected '_fair' from life deserved what they got.

There were only two other kids in his group; Shane, a dumb blond who got caught shoplifting; and Dylan, a fifteen year old who could have passed as a shaved grizzly if he were a little smaller. Dylan hadn't actually said what he was in for, but Jess was assuming it had something to do with the bruise on his chin and the blisters on his knuckles.

They met weekdays after school, at the Community Center, where their probation officer would lay out the day's work for them and oversee its execution. It was Jess' third day donning the mandated orange jumpsuit, and he was finding that the humiliation factor never did get old. Thus far he had done his best to remain detached from the situation and his fellow underaged delinquents, but that was proving more difficult than he had anticipated, as their probation officer liked to keep them herded together so they were easier to keep track of. That and Shane's insistence on flirting with both him and Dylan in some sort of desperate attempt to get them to compete for her favor, like Paris and Menelaus.

Everything about her, from her bad dye job to her 'look at me' hoop-earrings, to her dark pink bra left purposefully visible under her not-quite buttoned-up jumpsuit, to the way she actively sought any excuse to invade Jess' and Dylan's personal space; it all screamed 'attention whore' just as much as if it was written on her forehead with bright red lipstick. And it wasn't just a plea for acceptance, she was _way _too forward for that to be the case. The girl simply wanted to have guys wrapped around her finger so she could play with their hearts and heads and get high on the feeling of control. Jess knew the type, knew the game, and he wasn't the least bit interested in playing.

Dylan on the other hand seemed to have fallen hard for her bleached blond hair and makeup-caked mask of a pretty face, and had subsequently been doing his part to cater to her every whim, much like a trained seeing-eye dog. Currently that included giving up his seat next to Jess in their probation officer's pickup truck and riding in the bed with the empty paint cans and paint-rollers from their last project, so she didn't have to.

"Hey there Dark and Mysterious," Shane greeted coyly, scooting in next to Jess so that their thighs pressed together. Typical, he clearly indicated that he wasn't interested and she misinterpreted it as 'playing hard to get'. Not that there was much he could do about it now that they were already pulling out of the Community Center's parking lot. Jess leaned away from her indifferently, keeping his eyes glued to the open paperback in his palm. If he was lucky he could bore her to death. He'd like to see Detective Dean trace _that _back to him.

"Whatcha reading?" Shane asked, leaning over his shoulder to get a better view of the text.

"Isn't there some sort of law concerning seatbelts?" Jess retorted, not bothering to look up from his book.

The probation officer glanced over, and in his perpetual no-nonsense tone ordered Shane to; "Buckle up." Shane pouted, but sat back in her own seat and did as she was told.

The rest of the car ride was just pure Terry Pratchett, no community service, no probation worker, no Shane, no Shane's foot nudging his calf, no blue-eyed book-loving girl at the back of his mind; just a flat world on top of the backs of four giant elephants on top of a celestial turtle. That was the beauty of fiction.

"This is our stop," declared their probation officer about ten minutes later, pulling up to a large building with the words 'Stars Hollow Nursing Home' printed above the entrance. "Today you will be on janitorial duty. That means cleaning eighty-year-old's dirty laundry, cleaning their bathrooms, cleaning a kitchen that services some 50 residents, and any other nasty jobs they need doing. And remember, you're not on the clock if I don't know where you are, which means if you run off at _any_ time I will _not_ be counting _any _of your work for the day. And believe me, I will be more than happy to drag your sentences out till long after you're permanent residents here." And with that he indicated the building in front of them. "Now get your asses out of my truck." Jess took note of his page number, pocketed his paperback, and piled out after Shane.

When they got through the building's front doors they were received by a middle-aged women in a grey cashmere sweater, who quickly ushered them into a back room and away from the old folk's common area. Probably worried that their telltale orange jumpsuits might upset someone's grandmother.

It wasn't long before they were each shuffled off to their assigned tasks. Jess had originally been teamed up with Shane for kitchen duty, but he'd insisted he could handle it himself, and Shane was reassigned to laundry duty with Dylan. Jess was beginning to regret the decision now that he was actually staring down the daunting task ahead of him.

'Kitchen duty' apparently included what looked to be a week's-worth backlog of dirty dishes, a greasy ash-caked gas oven which was probably older than him, two full-size freezers so desperately in need of defrosting that one of them was being held shut by a bucket of rock salt, and a fridge that could comfortably accommodate four average-sized corpses and smelled of mold and curdled milk.

_There is no way this is even __remotely_ _close to being within the regulations of the Department of Health and Human Services_, Jess thought indignantly. In addition to everything else the kitchen tiles felt sticky beneath his black sneakers. Jess mentally added 'mop floor' to the list, as he folded up his sleeves and checked the cabinet beneath the sink for the scrubbers, dish soap and rubber gloves he'd been told he'd find there.

First things first he opened and unplugged both the freezers and applied a good amount of rock salt from the bucket between their ice-covered shelves, and left them to thaw. Then he got to work on the dishes. He'd had to compete with three other kids for a job as a dishwasher in an all-you-can-eat joint back in New York, so he was pretty darn good when it came to speed and efficiency. Even so it took him a good two hours. After which he got back to the freezers, which, by this point, had large puddles of melted ice water in front of them. Jess hadn't been able to find a mop yet, and he didn't want to ask for one either, so instead he got down on his hands and knees with a sponge, a scrubber and an empty ice-cream tub and began getting the water up by hand, and cleaning the floor while he was at it.

"I was wondering when they'd get around to installing a pool in this place."

Jess nearly jumped at the unexpected voice. His probation officer had just checked up on him, so he had thought he'd be left alone for a while. That and he hadn't heard any footsteps. A quick glance up told him why. The elderly woman staring down at him was wearing bunny-slippers. Who _actually _wore bunny-slippers?

"Kitchen's an odd spot for it though," she added, walking past him to the fridge.

"At least it's original," Jess pointed out neutrally.

Her icy-blue eyes shone with amusement as she began pulling together different ingredients, for what Jess could only guess must be some sort of curry.

_Great, so in addition to cleaning floors on my hands and knees I'm going to be stuck in a cramped kitchen with an eccentric old lady cooking odoriferous Indian food, _Jess thought vexedly, renewing his attack on the grimy floors. _Then again, it might drown out the smell of mold. _It was hard to know which to hope for.

They both went about their separate tasks in mutual silence, and Jess had almost finished off the floor by the time the elderly woman finally spoke again. "What's your name?"

"Jess."

The woman's wrinkle-ringed blue eyes widened with surprise. "My late husband was named Jess!" She exclaimed.

_Wow, that practically makes us ingratiated_, Jess thought dryly.

"It's usually a girls name," she continued, and Jess couldn't help but cringe at that. "But I always thought it better suited to a boy. I wanted to name our son Jess, after his father, but my husband wanted to name him Jimmy. Something about it being kinder."

Jess froze. _She didn't mean __that_ _Jimmy, get a hold of yourself, you're acting like an idiot_, he mentally chided.

The old lady didn't seem to have noticed, as she went on; "But I never thought _Jimmy _Mariano had as nice a ring to it as Jess Mariano."

It wasn't the first time he'd been wrong about being wrong. Jess regarded the woman in the bunny-slippers with new found interest. He had never actually met any of his grandparents before. Liz's parents had died before he was born, and he'd never even thought about Jimmy's parents. Now that he did he felt a little stupid for not coming to the conclusion that they might still be in Stars Hollow _before_. After all, that's where Jimmy had grown up. Logically it made sense.

_Shouldn't she recognize me or something? _Jess thought absently. She raised Jimmy when he was his age, didn't he look anything like his dad?

Jess carefully schooled his features into a relaxed expression of disinterest before asking the question that had been lodged in the back of his mind like a fishhook for the last sixteen years. "Whatever happened to him?"

"Lung cancer," she stated sadly. "He never could kick the habit of smoking those damn cigarettes."

"I meant Jimmy," Jess clarified, briefly wondering if she did too.

"Oh, Jimmy." Her tone turned a little bitter and her lips thinned. "He dropped out of school to go elope with some girl he _thought _he'd gotten pregnant, only to find out that the skank's baby wasn't even his. He ran off to California after that. Take my advice Jess, stay in school, and don't get yourself mixed up with girls till you're older. Trust me, you'll be better off for it."

Jess' mind had stopped processing the words after 'found out the baby wasn't his'. What did she mean 'the baby wasn't his'? Whose else could it- _he _be? Liz had always said...

Jess dropped his scrubber, pulled off his gloves and marched right out of the kitchen's side door without so much as a 'bye'. A small part of his mind was telling him that if he left now then the last two and a half hours of highly unpleasant labor wouldn't be counted off of his sentence, but the rest of his mind was saying 'screw the time, this is important'.

It took him a few minutes to orient himself to which side of town he was on, since he hadn't paid attention on the car trip, but Stars Hollow wasn't really all that big, and one could generally determine one's location by simply climbing a tree and looking for the taller buildings circling the town square.

By the time Jess got to the bus stop he'd realized he'd forgotten to change out of his rusty-hued jumpsuit, and that his casual clothes were still back at the Community Center. But the 6:00 bus was already pulling in and there was no time to go get them now.

It was a three hour ride down to Manhattan, but even so Jess couldn't find distraction in his book. He felt restless and unhinged, like someone was pulling on that hook in his mind, triggering all sorts of unused nerves.

It seemed like a lifetime before the bus finally came to Jess' stop, at the terminal by Washington Square Park. Jess' feet took on a faster pace than even his mind as he made his way through the backstreets to his old apartment.

Careful to avoid the block with the broken streetlights, well aware that it was after dark and he was alone, Jess finally came to the street and condominium he was looking for. He felt a strange mix of deja vu and quiet dread as he stood in front of Liz's apartment door and raised his hand to knock. He hadn't talked to his mother since she'd sent him to live with Luke, and that was beginning to feel like a very long time. He rapped twice.

There was a clattering sound and a moment later the door was cracked open to reveal a scruffy-bearded face that Jess knew all too well.

"I need to talk to Liz," Jess stated firmly.

"Is that so? Well she doesn't want to talk to you. She threw you out, remember? You're trash kid." Brian looked him up and down, and Jess again regretted not having had the foresight to change before rushing off to confront his mother and her live-in boyfriend. "No, worse than trash- you're the trash-picking trash of trash. Now get lost before I call your probation officer on you."

"I need to talk to Liz," Jess repeated coldly. "Now either you can let me in, or you can deal with the police getting an anonymous tip that the guy in apartment 103 owns an unlicensed semi-automatic and a ski-mask."

Brian's features darkened, and he leaned into Jess' personal space menacingly. "Or maybe the police can deal with your skinny-ass corpse when they find you a week from now in the dumpster down the street."

Just then Liz's voice came from inside the apartment; "Brian, who's at the door?" And she gently nudged past her boyfriend to see for herself. "Jess! What are you doing here?" She had even sounded excited for a moment there.

"I need to talk to you." The words were beginning to feel repetitive on Jess' tongue.

"Okay, why don't you come in," Liz offered, holding the door open for him and ignoring her boyfriend's glare. It felt strange being treated like a visitor in the run-down apartment that no longer felt like home. Liz lead him into her bedroom, to give them some privacy from Brian. "Are you in trouble?" Liz asked worriedly, apparently just noticing his orange jumpsuit.

There was no easy way to ask it, so Jess just put it bluntly. "Did you sleep with anyone other than Jimmy before I was born?"

Liz looked a little taken aback. "No. I was sixteen, he was my first. Honey, where is this coming from?"

"I met Jimmy's mother." Jess' voice grew quiet. "She said he left because I wasn't his." It felt stupid that this should matter so much, that it was worth dropping everything for, but he had to know.

"We've been over this Jess," Liz said exasperatedly. "Jimmy left because that's just who he was. It had nothing to do with you or me."

_Which is why he married you and stuck around nine months while you were going through pregnancy mood-swings and __only_ _decided to leave the day after __I_ _was born,_ Jess thought bitterly. _But it's not like you've ever lied to me before, so regardless of the facts, I'm sure it had nothing at all to do with __me__. _"So you swear you never slept with _anyone _other than Jimmy before I was born?"

Liz crossed her heart. "I swear."

Jess nodded numbly, not because he believed her, but because he had no choice but to accept that this was her story. Sixteen years and all she had ever told him of his father was 'he left because that's who he was', whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

"I should go," Jess stated. Then, in a moment of mental clarity a thought came to him. "Can I borrow a coat?"

"Go ahead," Liz agreed, stepping back from the closet to allow him access. Jess pushed past the clothes hung neatly on wire-hangers to the back of the closet, where he retrieved the faded baseball jacket with Stars Hollow High's school colors. It was the only thing of Jimmy's that his mother had kept, having pawned off the wedding rings years ago.

"I'll mail it back to you," Jess assured her, as he slipped the coat on over his jumpsuit.

Liz smiled sadly at what she misinterpreted as a sentimental act of a son trying to fill his father's shoes. Jess hugged his mother goodbye, secretly snagging one of her hairs while he was at it, and left for the bus station.

It was already almost nine-thirty, and by the time he got back to Stars Hollow it would be twelve-thirty, which meant Luke was gonna kill him. On the plus side he now had both a plan and the means to find out once and for all which of his parents were lying.

Jess plucked a dark hair from the collar of Jimmy's old coat and twisted it around his finger next to Liz's lighter brown hair. In the end, it all came down to DNA.

* * *

A.N.: I would love to be a telepath, and know what people think of my writing/story, but I'm not. I'm dependent on my readers for that.


	2. Chapter 2: Reality Check

Disclaimer: I own a green plaid shirt. My younger sisters own the Clue references.

Takes Place: Monday 22th April, three days since Jess went to New York.

* * *

Chapter 2: Reality Check

In Which No One is Murdered and Luke Gets a Clue

* * *

Luke had never heard of a '_GTL Genesis Center'_ before, but according to the large white envelope that had just arrived with the rest of his mail, it was apparently accredited by '_the American Association of Blood Banks, the Better Business Bureau, the Ministry of Justice', _and several other suspiciously official-sounding organizations. And perhaps most disturbing of all was that it was addressed to none other than _his _nephew and ward, Jess Mariano.

Of course the first thought that came into his head was; _aw gee, what has he done now?_ But as Luke studied the letter closer his annoyance quickly turned to concern. There was something distinctly doctorish about the lingo and format, and it was labeled '_Lab Results_'.

But results for what? Was there something wrong with Jess that he _didn't_ know about? The kid was _way_ too young for it to be lung cancer- right? And there was no way the kid was on drugs- this was Stars Hollow, it's not like they had dealers! Unless... Jess _had_ skipped his Community Service and ditched to New York about a week ago, and he'd never really explain _why_...

Technically it wasn't addressed to him, but as he _was_ Jess' caretaker, and thus responsible for him, didn't he have a right to know if his nephew was sick or in trouble? Not knowing what was in that envelope was beginning to look more and more like the less responsible alternative. Thus having rationalized the action to the part of his mind that still strongly believed opening other people's mail was inherently _wrong_, Luke carefully tore open the envelope's seal.

Inside was a single document labeled '_Personal Paternity Analysis Report'. _Luke's mind raced. _Jess is taking a paternity test? What for? He hasn't gotten someone pregnant has he? Oh geesh, he's gotten someone pregnant!_

But before Luke could freak out _too_ much over the possibility that he might be a grand-uncle, his eyes alit on the next line of text: '_Child: Jess Mariano, Mother: Liz Danes, Alleged Father: Jimmy Mariano.' _

Jess was taking a paternity test for _himself_? He'd never even mentioned his father before. Why was Jess looking into this now? And why keep it secret? Had Jimmy contacted him? Was that why Jess ran off to New York last Friday? Had he _met_ Jimmy? If so, what did Jimmy say? More importantly, what did Jimmy _want_? And how was Jess handling it?

Luke had to stop himself. There was no point worrying himself crazy over speculations and 'what ifs'. So instead he turned his attention back to the document that was the source of his misgivings to see if it contained any answers.

After some basic clinical information on Jess, Liz, and Jimmy the text trailed off into a string of convoluted statistics and numbers that Luke didn't even want to _try _to understand, so he skipped ahead to the actual results.

'_Probability of Paternity: 0.5% _  
_Probability of Maternity: 0.4%_  
_The results indicate that the alleged father must be excluded as the biological father of the Child. The test further indicates that the purported mother, or the mother's DNA provided, was also an inaccurate match to that of the child's, thus excluding the possibility of a biological relation between mother and child. All reported probabilities are tested against unrelated individuals of the same sex, age and race as the alleged father and mother.'_

And then it was sealed and signed with an illegible doctor's signature.

Luke reread the passage at least five times before it finally started to register in his head. _How can neither of Jess' parents be related to him?! _And more importantly, _if Liz and Jimmy aren't Jess' parents, who are? And what happened to Liz's baby? And how the heck does any of this make sense? _Luke could still remember vividly the day Jess was born, coming to the hospital and seeing him in the doctor's arms- he had the same little triangular mouth and everything! Something must have happened _before _that moment, because there was just no way Jess _wasn't _the baby he saw that day.

Just then Luke heard the bell on the diner door and he quickly tucked the document and envelope under a menu beneath the counter.

Of course nothing got past Lorelai Gilmore. "Whatcha hiding?" She asked conspiratorially, as she slid onto one of the counter seats.

"I'm not hiding anything," Luke returned, in his best that's-ridiculous-and-you-know-it tone.

"Yes you are. And now you're trying to hide that you're hiding something," Lorelai corrected, as she leaned over the counter to try to catch a peek of whatever was on the shelf under it on Luke's side.

Luke stepped right in front of her face so his chest blocked her view. "Did you want to place an order or what?"

Lorelai gave a disappointed 'humph', but her eyes were still sparkling with mischief as she leaned back away from Luke's plaid green shirt. "Is it a murder weapon? I haven't seen Taylor today, did you make sure to wipe your fingerprints off the body? They look for those you know."

"Thanks I'll remember that," was Luke's deadpan reply.

The bell on the door jingled again as Rory hustled in from outside. "Hey mom, hey Luke," she greeted as she took a seat next to her mother.

"Hey hon, I was just giving Luke tips on how to properly conduct murder," Lorelai returned sweetly, ever the politically-correct conversationalist.

"You do know that would make you an accomplice," Rory pointed out, too used to her mother's eccentricities to be surprised.

"Well maybe I like being an accompliced woman," Lorelai returned coyly.

"Ig. Puns and Jane Austen references don't mix. At least not with breakfast," Rory observed, before turning to Luke to place her order. "Can I have a blueberry muffin and some coffee please?"

"Coming right up." No sooner had Luke turned his back to get Rory's coffee then he heard Rory's hushed exclamation of:

"Mom, what are you doing?"

When Luke turned around he saw Lorelai leaning over the counter again, in the same undignified manner as before. The woman was just plain insufferable. Luke marched over to the counter and snatched the envelope and paternity test, still hidden beneath the menu, away from Lorelai's craning head and tucked it away in the pocket of his pea-green coat, which was hung up on a peg behind the counter.

"Now _that _was suspicious!" Lorelai announced triumphantly, smiling from ear to ear at being right.

"Will you be wanting coffee too?" Luke asked Lorelai, as he calmly poured Rory a cup.

"Yes please!" was Lorelai's immediate response. "Hey wait- you're trying to use my love of coffee to distract me! Nicely played Sir Doyle but it'll take more than a simple red herring to throw me off. I'm _so_on to you."

"Do you want a muffin with that?" Luke asked as he finished filling Lorelai's mug.

"The crumb topping kind," Lorelai specified, again forgetting her impending suspicions. She was _so _easy sometimes.

Kirk, who was still adorned in his mailman uniform, cleared his throat conspicuously. "You may have failed to notice while you've been busy serving your clearly more favored customers, but I'm still waiting for my omelet, Luke."

Luke rolled his eyes, handed the Gilmore girls their muffins, and then got back to cutting up the bell-peppers for the morning's special.

"I suggest it was Mr. Green, in the kitchen, with the knife!" Lorelai exclaimed suddenly, and Luke nearly cut himself from the abrupt start she gave him.

"I wouldn't bet on it," Rory interjected wryly. "No matter how many times we've played it's always, inevitably, Miss Scarlet, with the candlestick, in the ballroom. _Always._"

Lorelai nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. You know what I don't get? Why Mr. Body's never a suspect. What, is he so _upstanding_ that he's above suspicion? I mean, the guy invited five murderers to stay at his mansion, and he employs a maid who never smiles, _why _is he above suspicion?"

"Because he's the one who's _dead_," Luke answered, slightly baffled by the blatant ludicrousy of the question.

"Ah, but it could have been suicide," Lorelai countered.

_Oh, cause it's not like suicide's an inappropriate subject for a kids' game, _Luke thought sarcastically. But then again, 'homicide' wasn't exactly the most PC basis for a board game either.

Rory swallowed her mouthful of blueberry muffin. "Seems unlikely. Mr. Body's rich and cheerful and has no personal tragedy in his life, and it'd screw up the equal card division if there were seven suspects," she pointed out sensibly. "But now that you mention it, I have always wondered why they only cover three of the five W's in Clue. I mean, you get to learn 'who' did it, 'where' they did it, and with 'what' they did it, but isn't it kind of important to know 'when' they did it, and 'why' they did it too?"

Lorelai's face lit up with excitement. "Oh, oh! So they could have like six _motive cards_; 'jealousy', 'money', 'revenge', 'insanity', 'dispute', and 'self defence'. And then like, twelve _hour cards_, unless we're also including the a.m. hours- but who really murders people in the morning?" Catching Luke's murderous look, Lorelai amended, "Except for, you know, _murderers_. But hey, either way, twelve or twenty-four, both can be divided by six, so the player's hands will all still be even. Yay for math!"

"It's a _kids'_ board game," Luke pointed out exasperatedly. "No _kid _is gonna want to spend forever trying to narrow down five different variables out of fifty-one!"

Rory smiled good-naturedly at Luke's frustration. "But just think, it'll be teaching kids complete information-gathering skills."

"It will revolutionize children's board games everywhere!" Lorelai agreed exaggeratedly, in a random and poorly acted British accent. "Of course we'll have to buy the rights off of the Parker Brothers first."

"When you do, contact me," instructed Kirk, who was still waiting for his omelet and had apparently been listening in. He handed Lorelai a small business card. "I can help you with the marketing and sales, for a forty percent cut of course."

"Twenty percent," Lorelai corrected.

"Thirty-five."

"Fifteen."

"Thirty."

"Ten."

Kirk's brow furrowed in frustration. "I don't think you're grasping the fundamental concept of haggling." He turned to Luke. "Luke, explain to her how-"

"You're all driving me crazy," Luke groused, turning back to cutting up bell-peppers; not about to let Kirk drag him into the madness.

"I suggest it was Mr. Green, in the kitchen, with the knife, at eight a.m., out of insanity!" Lorelai exclaimed again, and this time Luke actually did nick himself. _Darn Gilmore. _

"Eight?" Rory repeated, looking up at the clock on the wall in concern. "Oh great, I'm late. See ya, I have to catch my bus!" And with that the younger Gilmore hoisted her school bag over her shoulder, grabbed her Clinton jacket, and dashed out the door.

"Twenty-five percent," Kirk stated. "That's my final offer. I'm holding firm to it, I'm not limboing, or settling for any less, and there is nothing you can say to make me-"

"Twenty," Lorelai reaffirmed her original offer.

"Deal," Kirk quickly accepted, evidently realizing it was the best offer he was gonna get. "Should I mail the legal papers for you to sign to your house or to the Inn?"

"I'll let you know just as soon as I win the lottery and buy the rights," Lorelai assured him.

Kirk looked a little dubious. "Can you give me a more specific time frame? I'd like to work it into my schedule."

Just then Jess appeared from behind the plastic-covered curtains hanging in front of the stairwell leading up to the apartment above the diner, which was still undergoing renovations. At the sight of the mussy-haired teen Luke immediately forgot about Lorelai's and Kirk's ridiculous conversation, and all the questions and concerns about his nephew came rushing back into his mind.

Jess briefly skimmed through the pile of mail on the counter, and Luke guessed he was looking for the GTL results, which gave him a pang of guilt. Did he really have a right to keep the results from Jess? But on the other hand, how was he suppose to tell the kid that neither of his parents were _actually _his parents, and nobody knew where he'd really come from?

"Shouldn't you be getting off to school?" Luke reminded Jess, making a split decision not to say anything about the GTL results till he knew more.

"Thank you Geppetto, I hadn't noticed," Jess returned wryly, snagging an apple from the bowl of fruit behind the counter, before heading out the door.

Luke watched Jess from the diner window as he dashed to catch up to Rory, did a smooth little juggling trick with the apple, and shared a few words with her. He couldn't tell what they were saying, but Jess was smirking as they parted ways. It was nice to see Jess actually getting on with _someone _in Stars Hollow, and it struck Luke that Rory really would make a good friend for Jess, if she was still attending Stars Hollow High, and if Jess wasn't such a loner.

Lorelai also seemed to have noticed the two teens out the window, but she didn't look as approving, if her humorless thin-lipped expression was anything to go by.

"One ham and cheese omelet with toast," Caesar announced, passing Luke Kirk's order from the kitchen.

"Yeah, thanks," Luke muttered absently as he handed it to Kirk and grabbed his coat. "Hey Caesar, will you be alright covering the rest of the morning shift on your own? There's an errand I need to go run."

The chubby chef quickly scanned the diner's dwindling crowd and shrugged. "Sure, I guess I can manage. What's the errand?"

"He has to return to the scene of the crime," Lorelai chimed in. "It's like a rule or something. That and he needs to dispose of the incriminating weapon he has hidden in that coat."

"Crime, wh-what crime? What weapon?" Caesar stuttered nervously.

Lorelai's face split into a toothy smile, which Luke would have described as stunning, under different circumstances. "Oh you didn't hear? Mr. Green here murdered Taylor last night."

Luke rolled his eyes. "I did not."

Ignoring him, Lorelai continued, in the tone of a campfire ghost story; "And they say on quiet mornings, if you listen real hard, you can still hear his superiority-laced voice echoing through Stars Hollow, like the buzz of an out-of tune radio."

Just then Taylor Doose stepped through the diner door, grey cardigan and all.

Never one to quit while she was ahead, Lorelai quickly added; "And sometimes, if you _look _real hard, you can even see his ghostly form wandering about his old haunting grounds."

"Whatever are you talking about, Lorelai?" Taylor asked impatiently, before he spotted Luke heading for the door. "Oh nevermind, Luke, I want to talk to you."

"Sorry, I forgot my ouija board," Luke retorted, and he let the door swing shut behind him before Taylor could goad him into yet another argument that might lead to '_Mr. Green' _doing something unfortunate to the annoying grocer.

It was a short drive to Stars Hollow's hospital; one of the perks of living in a small town. Nevertheless it took Luke a good five minutes to brace himself before actually entering the foreboding building. Hospitals and him had never really gotten on, especially not since his mother had died. The last time he'd stepped foot in a hospital was when Lorelai's father had had that angina episode and he'd offered to give her a ride up to Hartford to see him. It was harder walking through hospital doors without Lorelai with him, and Luke began to regret not leveling with her about the confusing paternity test results he'd found in the mail.

"Can I help you sir?" asked a thick-haired woman behind the receptionist desk with a '_Please ask for assistance' _sign on the wall behind her.

"Um yeah, I was wondering if I can see Jess Mariano's birth records. I'm his uncle, Luke Danes, I own 'Luke's', the diner in town."

"So you're not his guardian?" The receptionist deduced.

Luke hadn't thought about it before, but Liz really hadn't officially given him any legal authority with Jess. She'd just put the kid on a bus and shipped him to Stars Hollow, leaving Luke accountable for him, but giving Luke no leg to stand on legally if anything ever happened. "Not technically, no. But his mother, my sister, sent him to stay with me, so I'm responsible for him."

The receptionist was unmoved, and rattled off in a practiced monotone; "I'm sorry, but only immediate family are allowed access to someone's birth records, like a parent, sibling, or grandparent."

"So you're telling me I can't see my own ward's birth certificate?" Luke asked incredulously.

"No, you can, you just need to provide proof of consent from a legal guardian or parent first," the receptionist clarified.

"Here-" Luke scribbled down Liz's number on one of the hospital pamphlets with the pen he'd forgotten to leave at the diner, and he handed it to the lady behind the desk. "You can call his mother, Liz."

"Okay." She picked up the phone and dialed the number. "Hello this is Stars Hollow Hospital, is this Liz Mariano?"

"Danes," Luke corrected. "She's divorced." _About four times now._

"No, no one's dead or dying," the receptionist quickly assured Liz on the other end of the line. "Yes, I understand, but neither of them are at all hurt. It's just a simple formality to check if you're alright with your brother seeing his birth records, that's all. Alright, thank you ma'am. Yes, I'll tell him. Oh, thank you. You too. Bye." The lady behind the desk hung up and looked encouragingly up at Luke. "She sends her love and hugs and kisses, and apparently I _sound _like I have nice hair."

_Yeah, that's Liz. _Luke shrugged. "You do have nice hair."

The receptionist smiled. "If you'll just wait here I can get you those records now." She disappeared into a back room, and a few minutes later she came back with a vanilla folder. "Here we go," she said as she handed it to Luke.

As Luke scanned over the birth certificate inside Jess' folder, something about the date seemed familiar. But of course it should, it's when Jess was born. "Were there any other births on the 8th of October, 1985?" Luke asked.

"There might have been, but unfortunately I'm not permitted to give out that kind of information," the receptionist replied inflexibly.

"Okay. Well I got this in the mail." Luke took the GTL results out of his coat pocket and handed them to the receptionist, along with Jess' birth certificate. "You may notice that the facts seem to kinda contradict what you guys have documented. And I'm just wanting to know what sort of fairy exchange establishment you people are running here, where Jess came from, and what happened to my _sister's_ kid. So tell me, is it a court-mandated _law_ that you're not 'permitted' to help me- in which case that sign behind you is one sick joke- or is it just a habitually followed hospital custom? You know, like paperwork questions asking what ethnic group you belong to- which is a little racist by the way. Because, believe me, this entire situation is so _beyond _customary."

The lady behind the desk looked more than a little shocked at both the GTL test results and Luke's long-winded rant. "I'll check the records again," she relented.

Luke breathed a quiet; "Thank you." He felt bad about blowing up at the lady. It wasn't her fault Jess' parents weren't his parents. She probably wasn't even on the hospital staff sixteen years ago.

She left to the back room again, and after a bit she came back, this time empty handed. "The Genesis Center must have made a mistake," she stated simply.

"There weren't any other births that day?" Luke asked.

The lady hesitated. "Well there was _one_, but a switch having occurred is highly unlikely considering."

"Considering _what_?" Luke prompted.

"It was a girl."

Suddenly Luke remembered why October 8th was familiar, and with a dry throat he asked; "What was her name?"

"Lorelai Leigh Gilmore."

* * *

A.N.: Like every aspiring author, feedback means the world to me. It helps me grow as a writer, and motivates me in my goals. (Plus it just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.) So thank you again to everyone who's taken the time out to let me know what you think. You have no idea how much it's appreciated.


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